Everything I Am
by Ida C. Watson
Summary: Takes place right after 'The Fifth Stage.' Peter is crushed that Nathan's dead, and Sylar's on the loose for new powers. Cameron can't live without Nathan, but will she take on revenge on Sylar? Rated T to be safe ...


**(Based off of the song 'Everything I Am' by: Stanfour)**

**right after 'The Fifth Stage' ***Nathan's been leading a double life. Cameron is a reporter who has fallen for Senator Petrelli-she has an ability--the ability to control air .... but if she hasn't seen nathan for a few weeks (a month), how will she handle it if nathan's . . . dead?*****

******Sylar should be in the next few chapters if i continue*****

*********************TEAM NATHAN!*************************

* * *

"Hey, Nathan," I whispered into the speaker, hsi voicemail answering for him. "Call me back. It's important."

I snapped my phone shut and sighed, slumping against the wall outside of my office. That was weird. Nathan not calling for a couple of weeks. He usually called once a week, but he'd lately said he was busy; and he'd try to call, but _this_ was too long. I missed him. And right now, I could use some help, especially with work.

"Cammy," Steve called, rushing over. "Mr. Sullivan wants to see you."

"Yeah, Steve," I pursed my lips and straightened my skirt. "I'll meet him in his office in a bit."

***

"So, Cameron," Mr. Sullivan said, crossing his arms as he twirled in his swivel chair, his deep brown hair gleaming as the sun bounced from it, his eyes gleaming blue. "You've put in your 2 weeks' notice."

"Yes, Mr. Sullivan," I whispered, my hands folded as my legs were crossed. "I believe I'd like a less public job. Being a reporter and all, I wanted to become more . . . private."

He sighed, stopping his twirling in front of me, staring and taunting.

"You've accomplished a lot," he shook his head. "Personal interviews with the largest groups of politicians in New York and Pennsylvania. Don't forget the president." You've made a connection with the civilians."

It was true. I loved my job; but being a reporter was hard work! It wasn't all fun and games―the public demanded a lot from politicians and issues to press to them. Nathan Petrelli was one of them. He was the single most politician who was glad with what was happening throughout the world, so optimistic. He made me feel as if _I_ was the one being interviewed. His hand gestures, his shrugs, and his constant priceless smiles.

And I fell for him. I loved everything about him, even though I had the features that didn't seem to match with his. The blue-black hair and cut-glass green eyes.

"Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedy," he used to say to me in all my interviews, adding a little comedy to most of all the interviews.

The phrase always made me giggle.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, Mr. Sullivan," I nodded. "I am _quite_ sure. I'm planning on a small-town job, maybe making jewelry."

I stood up, nodding to him before touching the door handle, starting to open it before his fist slammed it shut.

"_Cameron_," he sighd, setting a hand on my shoulder. "You're the best reporter this company's ever known. _And_ the most beautiful."

_Okay, I _really_ needed to get out of here now_.

"Yes, Mr. Sullivan," I muttered. "But I'm . . . already dating."

"Dating?" he snapped, stepping closer to me. "Who is it ?"

"Sir, it's personal information," I tried to pry his hand away from my arm.

"It's him, isn't it? Nathan Petrelli," He growled. "That little rat."

"Don't you _dare_ speak of him in that way." My voice rose.

I yanked his arm off of mine, feeling his arm grip even tighter as I tried to pry him off of them. The door shook under my hand as I could feel his dirty hands reaching up to touch me.

"Stop, you _creep_!" I screamed, a blast of wind slapping him across the face as I screamed, pulling the door open and turning on my heels, slamming the door shut. "Senator Petrelli is a _subject_, not an acquaintance."

As I stomped off, I could hear the sound of all the papers flying behind me, and his voice, trying to pierce through me―but I wasn't going to let it get to me.

"Just you wait, Cameron!" He yelled after me. "Whoever you're dating, he'll be the death of you! Your career is most important! You're missing out on an opportunity of a lifetime!"

***

I pulled the door open, carrying my groceries in an arm and my office belongings in another. Hearing he low shallow breathing of my black lab puppy and the clacking of his paws, I set everything on the round table before catching my puppy in my arms, nuzzling his nose. His fur was soft and silky, his tongue wet against my cheek, his blue collar jingling.

My small apartment wasn't much, but the kitchen was in one room, connected with the living room and a bathroom in another room, then there was a single storage closet and one bedroom. It wasn't Queen Elizabeth's castle, but it was comfy enough. At least I knew the manager was tidy enough to decorate the walls and keep bugs and rats out of the walls.

"Hey, Leon," I kissed him on the forehead and scratched his ears. "How are you?"

"Hey, Cammie," Miriam smiled, hugging me as she took her coat, opening the door. "I've got to go to work in 15 minutes. And I can't watch Leon tomorrow, I've got the Christmas feast to attend."

"Okay, Mira," I handed her the money I owed her. "Thank for watching him."

"No problem," she grabbed her bag from the counter. "I could use the extra cash. Bye Leon!"

The door closed, and I kissed Leon as I started to put the groceries into the refrigerator, plopping on the sofa with a jar of pickles as I flipped on the TV, letting Leon plop next to me, still staring into my eyes.

"It's okay, Leon," I whispered, handing him a treat as I could feel him noticing the missing spot beside me. "Nathan'll come back."

He whimpered and I could almost hear his thoughts. _I hope so, Cammie. I sure hope so._

_***_

There was a creak that made me flinch. The deep blue covers on top of me suddenly went cold, the lamp beside me was already turned off as I tried to find any trace of light. The drapes were covering any light I needed to see.

In an instant, I was out of my bed, all the particles of my body disappearing in a slight breeze. I swooped to the kitchen, taking a knife off of the counter as I suddenly materialized beside the crook, a strong wind slamming against him, throwing him into the door as I materialized beside him.

"Who the hell are you?" I cried, pressing the blade to the person's neck. "Who sent you here?"

"Cammie," a familiar voice rasped.

_The voice_. I dropped the knife, bewildered. I had _never_ told anyone about where I lived. Only Nathan and Mira. Wind slapped him across the face as I swooped around him, studying.

"Peter?"

His face was falling apart, red circles around his eyes and they were dark, miserable as he was in his paramedic outfit. He must have just come back from the hospital.

"Are you . . . _alright_?"

He took a step forward, stumbling as I caught him, bracing him up in my arms. _Oh, my god_, he was going to _die_ if he took another step. His skin was clammy, wet―from the rain? ―and cold.

"Cammie, I'm sorry," he whispered, repeating it a few times before looking up again, tears in his eyes.

"What? What is it?" I cried.

"Nathan," he muttered.

I nearly dropped him as the name made my heart pound.

"What about him?"

Peter hesitated, clutching onto my arm harder, his nails digging in as he looked up, not smiling. He fell to the ground, kneeling now as i tried to comfort him, looking down on him as his eyes caught mine.

"He's dead, Cammie," Peter finally spat out, his voice breaking. "Nathan's _dead_."

And I screamed.

* * *

Pretty please **review**? I'm not sure if i want to continue this story because i like cliff hangers, so please review!


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